Witnessing History
by shadowcat15
Summary: Nittle Grasper's first performancethrough the eyes of a reporter.


Disclaimer: I do not own Gravitation. I don't even own any of the DVDs. I own volume 1. I borrowed the first two DVDs from my friend, who has yet to get any more.

Witnessing History

by shadowcat15

I'm a reporter. I'm a fairly _new_ reporter, and the new girl gets the exciting job of reporting about new bands in the area. But I wasn't assigned this, I _wanted_ it. Nobody warned me that it was boring. I thought, "Hey, music. I like music. I'm in." I thought it'd be fun. And don't get me wrong. It would be fun if there was anyone good out there. But there isn't. Lately in Japan, there has been a serious lack of new talent. Sure, all the bands that were popular before I took this job are still going strong, and putting out their latest stuff, but I'm reporting on the _new_ talents. They're not new.

My name is Ayano Nakamura, and the following pages will tell you how I witnessed a legend in the making.

IIIII

The week started off normally enough. I made it to work barely on time, the editor of the paper glared a little, gave me my assignment, and I was free until the performance by this band who has yet to even submit a name. They're playing on Friday at this club that just opened a while ago, so its name slips my mind right now. But until Friday, I'm free to go and do what I want.

IIIII

Friday night came and I arrived in my sexiest outfit I own—form fitting jeans and a tight shirt. Ok, so I don't get out much unless I'm on an assignment. So sue me. I flashed the bouncer my ID, and he let me in. That was the most exciting thing that happened for about an hour. I wasn't told when this band was playing so I had to show up early so I didn't miss them.

So here I am, an hour later, sitting at the bar, not drinking much, because I was on a job, and the DJ stops the music. Everyone on the dance floor called out in protest, and he shrugged his shoulders as if to say, "I'm just following orders." Then this guy gets on stage.

"Hello, everyone. Performing tonight, we have a new group. So new, that they just picked out their name a few minutes ago. Please welcome, Nittle Grasper!" He backed away from the stage and the curtains opened behind him, revealing three people.

I never take notes, and my editor hates that, but I give him my articles and that shuts him up. I have no trouble remembering the names and features of the people I'm writing about. My philosophy is that, if you pause constantly to write things down, you're bound to miss something important. With a name like "Nittle Grasper" I should be able to remember that easily.

I looked at the three members of the band, taking mental notes about them, their expressions, who was playing what, and so on. There were two boys and a girl, and one of the boys and the girl were on synthesizers, and the other boy had no instrument, he was obviously the lead singer.

The girl had her hair dyed lavender, and up in pigtails, and she wore really tight clothing. Her shirt was spaghetti strapped, and stopped a little before her belly button. It was grey, but very shiny. Her skirt was green, and barely covered anything. Knee-high boots and gloves (also shiny) completed the outfit. I felt very jealous of her. If I dyed my hair lavender, I'd look like a walking freak show, and even if I would look good in those clothes, I'd never have the courage to wear them in public.

The male portion of the audience seemed to notice her short skirt and tight shirt, and their dates didn't like that. They glared at her, until they caught sight of the other members of the band.

The other keyboardist looked like a foreigner, but I'm pretty sure that he was Japanese. His outfit was definitely the most ordinary and least revealing of the three. He had on a plain black, long-sleeved shirt, and black trousers. He had blond hair, which is what lead me to think at first that he was foreign, and it was slightly tousled. He looked slightly out of place in a club, like he'd be more comfortable in an office or something. But somehow, he fit in with the rest of his group.

The last member was the lead singer, and he was absolutely adorable. The members of Nittle Grasper were all talking quietly, and he kept shooting nervous glances at the large, silent audience who was waiting for some music. He had this child-like aura around him, and made you just want to squeal and hug him. He had messy brown hair, and from where I was in the audience, it looked like blue eyes. His clothes contrasted with the childness, because they were downright sexy. Tight leather pants, with the button undone, and a white tank top.

Apart, the three members of Nittle Grasper seemed a little strange. But put them on stage together, and they seemed to click. They radiated confidence, but the lead singer still looked nervous. He stepped up to the mike, and lowered it to his height.

He spoke into it, his voice slightly shaking. "H-hello everyone." He cleared his throat and spoke again, more confident, "My name is Ryuichi Sakuma, and this is Tohma Seguchi," he motioned towards the blond, who waved, and gave a small smile that had the hopeless romantics in the crowd sighing, "and Noriko Ukai." The girl with the lavender hair winked at all of the males who were staring at her (their dates no longer cared: they had Ryuichi and Tohma to stare at).

"For a few months, we've been practicing in Noriko-chan's garage, but we decided that we were ready to see what people we didn't know thought about our music. This is our first time performing on stage, so if we totally blow it, please be nice." He finished cheerfully, and Tohma and Noriko smiled.

As they set up, I wondered what kind of music they would play. The lead singer, Ryuichi, was really bouncy and cute, so maybe it was pop music. I hope not, I've reported on way too many of them. Just to be cute, Tohma brought out drumsticks, and tapped them together, counting down for the song to start.

I was surprised when the music started, because it was techno. I felt like dancing, and I'm the kind of person who only dances when there's no one watching. The people around me looked like they wanted to dance too, but no one did. We were all mesmerized when Ryuichi started to sing. Ryuichi looked completely different when he sang. He looked as if nothing existed except for him and the music that possessed him.

As I watched Nittle Grasper make their homes on the stage, you could tell that this was where these three people were the most comfortable. Tohma and Noriko manipulated the music like they had been born to do just that. They brought the music to life. The same was true for Ryuichi, but he lived to be manipulated by the music. With every beat, Ryuichi was moving his body in ways that were almost indecent. His voice was deep, and made my whole body tremble. I was amazed at the fact that someone so innocent looking could make something sound so sensual.

Once I broke out of the trance that Ryuichi's singing had put me in, I moved to a corner of the room (careful not to bump into anyone, because I was sure that even the slightest touch would knock them over) and watched everyone in the room.

As I surveyed the room, I noticed each person had a look of awe on their faces. Ryuichi and the others didn't notice, because they were sill too focused on their singing and playing, but I, the reporter, did. Every person in this room would go home and not be able to talk about anything else for a long time.

And after the concert I would find out when and where they were playing next, print it in my article, and show up there whether or not I was assigned. And all of these members of the audience would be there, along with all the friends who had heard nothing but "Nittle Grasper this" and "Nittle Grasper that" for a while, and wanted to see what the hype was all about. And a bunch of reporters just like me would be there.

But they wouldn't be just like me, because they aren't here right now. They weren't at Nittle Grasper's first performance.

They hadn't witnessed the birth of a musical legend.

IIIIIIIOwariIIIIIII


End file.
